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Amongst those who had survived to see the conclusion of Project Hail Mary, around three quarters of them were still working in science, and almost all were studying extraterrestrial biology in some way shape or form.
As for Eva Stratt, she was not entirely exempt and was working as an archivist and research librarian at an obscure but well-respected institute. After her pardon, she had decided it best to pursue a life as quiet as Ms. Eva Stratt of The Petrova Project could reasonably achieve. It was something which she was a bit pleased about, after all of the chaos that had enveloped most of her life.
Her biggest contribution, as well as her largest act of publicity beyond what was strictly necessary, had been her contribution as one of the founding members of their Eridian cultural studies division. Carl had gifted her a dark blue cardigan when she dropped the word ‘librarian’ when discussing the subject.
He made no attempt to correct the easily assumed undertone that the gift was partially for the lung damage she sustained in prison. The unsanitary conditions and frequent disease outbreaks were so severe that the bottom lining of both lungs was unusable. It led to her being permanently prone to respiratory infections.
Either way, no one had a reaction to her being an archivist that differed from Leclerc’s initial, “That somehow fits.”
The Earth to Erid video call technology had been in the works since about a year after The Beatles had landed. It was mostly reserved for the collection of scientific and cultural information, but six years after the earliest developments, most of Grace’s friends and coworkers had the ability to video call him on their personal computers.
Of course, it buffered left right and center, with occasional random shutdowns that brought Stratt back to the days of dial up internet, but it worked as well as it needed to on a base level.
It was mid-morning on a Saturday, and she pulled up the program, half for some clarification for her early cultural history paper, and half as a social call. The wait for any kind of connection took nearly half an hour (during which she read a chapter of Exupéry’s ‘The Little Prince,’) and several more seconds for the image of Ryland Grace in pajamas to move, letting her know for sure that he was actually on the other end of the line.
“Hey.” The screen showed his hand twitching into a waving position.
*Hello. I am in a nonspeaking period right now.* Maybe that was for the best. The chat box on the side of the screen was tangentially faster than the video call, not by enough for it to matter most of the time, but tangentially.
“Got it.” A few seconds of buffering. “Rocky’s here. I should grab him.” He stepped out of frame, and Stratt thought the technology may be improving when she was able to clearly hear;
“It’s Stratt.”
She couldn’t catch the vague chirps and notation that came next. Mainly because the computer made it so they only came in short bursts.
“Hey, we’ve put that behind us.”
“...”
“She works as a researcher now, and she talks to The Dome’s history and art departments all the time.”
The program froze for a good thirty seconds.
“I would use your AAC if I were you.”
There was a low toned melody.
“Just give her this. I don’t think an eighth language will be easy to just pick up.”
“Found AAC”, Rocky said.
“Great. Now are you coming?”
Grace scampered back onto screen, and Rocky was quick to follow. “Sorry about that.” Grace said.
“Sorry.” The notation of his natural language was quiet under his electronic voice, which he had easily been able to add tone to. Some days Stratt wished her devices could replicate the natural flow of vocal conversation, but that would be more complex than it was worth to her, and she had grown attached to her various voices, all eight of them, including her natural one.
*I understand.* She wrote.
“I No Read Earth Writing Well. Why No Talk, Question?” The screen flicked, although thankfully the audio was still working properly.
“I knew this conversation would happen sooner or later, and you probably did too, but you know, it’s not my discussion to have.”
This alarmed Rocky. “Did Stratt Get Hurt, Question? Is Stratt Sick, Question?”
It was the most common assumption people made when she used her AAC around them for the first time. *No.* She could perform this next conversation in over a dozen different ways. Neurotypicals were frequently surprised by how often she had to have it with adults.
*I am autistic.* *My brain does not function the way most human brains do.* *Autistic people are often good at things many people are bad at, and bad at things many people are good at.* *We also do not have the same social customs built into our brains.* *One part of autism for me is that sometimes, when I am calm or tired or sad, or for reasons I don’t know, I can’t make the noises I need to speak.*
When she had first been introduced to Rocky, she had taken note of how his speech patterns reflected certain methods of AAC and asked if he would prefer for her to speak in plain text, something which she still spoke in a somewhat choppy ability. They had told her together that it was not necessary, and this was just how Eridians learned English.
“We Have That Too. Many Different Brain On Erid,” he said, “Some Brain Make Connection With Other Eridian Hard. To Eridian, All Human Brain Are-” the AAC cut out, and he spoke a series of two chords untranslated.
Grace began to type on his computer, and with the way his eyes began to flick, it was clear that he had opened a new tab. “Okay, Rocky, what was that last word?”
“When Brain No Work Like Most Brain.” He repeated the melody.
*Neurodivergent.* Stratt wrote.
“Yep. To us, that word is ‘neurodivergent, and…” he hit the enter key harder than he needed to. “We got that one logged.”
The screen then froze, and the audio fell silent for twenty full seconds. Stratt was a little concerned that the call would just end, but the motion and sound came back after that time.
“Did you freeze for us too?”
*Yes.*
“Alright. Rocky was starting to go off on human versus Eridian culture when it comes to intelligence, so I’ll let him sound off.”
Stratt slid over a notebook, and the call turned into one of the conversations on culture that she had grown to love long ago when she was a young historian in her early twenties.
The concept of intelligence amongst Eridians was focused entirely on what an individual knew, and what skills they had, which led to speed of thought in those areas. Unlike humans, at least in current European and North American society, they had a distinct divide between natural ability, which was not considered an automatic indicator of intelligence, and applied skill after it was properly honed, which was.
When the concept shifted to the linguistics surrounding those ideas, the exact usage of their versions of the words ‘ability’ and ‘intelligence,’ were similar in meaning beyond the underlying philosophy, just more inflexibly used. The video call was working unusually smoothly during that time.
Stratt stood. She had finally found an opportunity to test an idea she had. *I am moving the computer. I have something to show both of you.*
She trotted across the room to set it on a long table bought from an antique store. It was now used for potted herbs. She angled the computer to her hackbrett, which sat on a stand beside it. She set two of the hammers between her middle and pointer fingers, and played a slow scale. She then reached for the computer and typed, *Rocky, could you say your name without your AAC please?*
He did so, and she played it on the dulcimer.
*I play the hackbrett in church instead of singing when I can’t speak.* She explained. *Let’s try a few more basic vocabulary words.*
They repeated the exercise with ‘Grace,’ ‘Erid,’ ‘Earth,’ ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and ‘Eva.’ She had been mildly amused to learn that her name was also the Eridian word for ‘life support,’ referencing EVA suits. The process was made slow by frequent glitches, but they got there.
She also recognized, and explained to them, that when using two hammers on each hand, the hackbrett could play four notes at once, and ten when the strings were plucked, which made it so someone who was reasonably skilled in the instrument, such as Stratt, could create the same five notes that an Eridian could.
The only limitation was that hackbretts could play less octaves, making portraying emotion more difficult, but it was not as if Stratt showed much emotion when talking to humans. However, it still couldn’t quite portray the rumbles and different forms of instrumentals, so she tried humming and singing the notes the best she could without the ability to make fluent, complex sounds.
“Rocky Understand Better With Just Instrument.”
She nodded. *There are various forms of music software you had access to on The Hail Mary. I am a little surprised that it took me for you to have this idea.*
“Hey, I thought of it. It’s just easier to reverse Rocky’s software. Do you know how bulky it can get to be typing stuff down while talking to people all day?”
She stared at the screen.
“Yep. Sorry. Listen, I can understand Eridian, but not all of us can be language geniuses.”
She placed her fingers on the keyboard.
“Or have access to that world renowned German Catholic education system.”
*That is fair.*
“Good.”
She thought she was smiling. If she knew she was doing it, it looked more like a grimace, so she was satisfied with thinking she was doing it. *You may be happy to hear that the archives are currently working on an Eridian translation dictionary for a number of different languages. I have already volunteered to work on the team for the German and Dutch editions.*
“Amaze.”
Not knowing what else to do, she nodded, and began playing a German folk tune. She had forgotten the name. One of the nuns had taught it to her through the church choir, and that was good enough for her. The program froze and disconnected them less than a verse in, and she set down the hammers, standing up. She would receive an e-mail from Grace soon. Neither of them would feel the need to go through all the trouble of setting up another call.
While pushing the chair in, she plucked an A sharp chord. She had a ninth voice. Of course, she had known that since she was nine years old, but she thought of it the way most musicians did, as something exclusively for singing. Yes, she had compared it to her AAC on occasion, but she didn’t think of it in the same, utilitarian way that it was something to communicate with at in casual conversation, and it was less perfect for the job than even most AAC, but it would prove to be a useful starting point in analyzing the notation of Rocky’s language.
How many languages could one woman learn? At least this one wouldn’t make her give coffee orders in near perfect Japanese while in Holland. Something along those lines had happened at least twice a month during Project Hail Mary.